


Always a Friend

by KathyAgel



Category: Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 11:51:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7267021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KathyAgel/pseuds/KathyAgel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A missing scene from Eleven Days to Zero. Second in a series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always a Friend

**Author's Note:**

> A Nexus Cycle story. Part of a miniseries of missing scenes from the Voyage pilot episode, “Eleven Days to Zero”.  
> To be read in the following order:
> 
> 1) Preemptive Strike  
> 2) Always a Friend  
> 3) Loose Ends  
> 4) Turn the Page
> 
>  The title for this comes from a song by Bruce Springsteen
> 
> More stories from The Nexus Cycle can be found at www.contraryrose.com.
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Kathy

Ever since Commander Lee Crane had chosen to employ a rather unorthodox – if not borderline dangerous – method to board Seaview at the start of their current mission, Lieutenant Commander Chip Morton had been busy smoothing ruffled feathers all over the boat, from Admiral Nelson right on down to the sub’s most junior seaman. He’d also had to devote time solving a raft of problems before they could possibly come to the attention of Seaview’s new commander. Considering the importance of their mission, the incident was something he could have done without, even though he’d anticipated Lee’s move – it had taken too much time and attention that he should have been able to direct toward other matters, and it had thrown his carefully-crafted personal duty schedule all to hell in the process. 

Now, finally alone in the sanctuary of his cabin, Chip was playing catch-up. He’d composed and printed out the next day’s Plan of the Day as he wolfed down a quick sandwich that he’d barely tasted, washing it down with a cup of cold coffee. He was now busily organizing the sheaf of daily reports the department heads had turned in to him since they’d left port two days earlier as well as preparing his own report to present at his first eight o’clock meeting with Seaview’s interim captain, a meeting which had been delayed until the second evening of the cruise due to the demands of the mission. 

Seaview’s interim Captain – Lee Crane. With a perplexed frown, Chip shook his head. Lee’s attitude since he’d boarded so dramatically was more than puzzling. Despite the fact that Chip had anticipated Lee’s move and they’d caught him as soon as he descended the ladder into the control room, Lee hadn’t been happy with the state of Seaview’s security when he’d channeled his inner James Bond to sneak aboard – and he’d let Chip know it in no uncertain terms soon after he’d been subdued by the in-port watch, dressing him down in front of every man present when Chip had arrived at the tail end of the fracas. Over the intervening two-and-a-half days, Lee had had nothing to say to Chip other than whatever was necessary for the efficient running of the boat. 

Despite the fact that the reprimand had come from the man who’d been his best friend for the past eleven years, Chip had done his best to keep from taking it personally. Nevertheless, he’d had slipped behind his professional mask and intended to stay behind it for the duration of the mission. 

Hearing a trio of staccato raps on his cabin door, Chip looked up in brief irritation before remembering that he'd asked Kowalski to come by for a talk after his watch was over. Closing the folder on his notes, he took a second to compose himself and called, “Come.”

The door swung open to reveal Walter Kowalski standing in the passageway, his body language displaying a decided reluctance to go any further. “Uh, Mister Morton, you wanted to see me?” 

Chip nodded and beckoned the seaman inside the cabin. “Come in, Kowalski. Close the door.” He pointed to the chair alongside his desk. “Have a seat.”

“Yes sir.” Kowalski came inside, closed the door behind him with a soft snick, and sat on the very edge of the indicated chair.

Kowalski looked like a cat on a hot stove, and Chip couldn’t really blame him. A summons from your executive officer was usually bad news. “Relax, Kowalski. You’re not in trouble. You were only doing your duty,” Chip assured him. “How’s the jaw?” 

Kowalski relaxed fractionally. “Sore, sir,” he acknowledged.

Chip smiled. “I’m not surprised. That was some punch you took.”

Kowalski shook his head ruefully, and Chip could see a purple bruise along his jawline. “He’s got some right cross, sir,” he said with grudging admiration. “Curley said he was an intercollegiate boxing champion.”

“Yes, he was,” Chip said. “He was an excellent boxer when we were at the Academy.”

Kowalski’s eyes widened in surprise. “You know him, sir?”

“Know him?” Chip asked with a raised eyebrow. “We were roommates all four years at Annapolis.”

Kowalski’s eyes widened further until he looked like a deer caught in the high-beams of a speeding car. “No shit, sir?” he asked, then flushed as he realized how he'd addressed his XO. “Sorry, sir.”

Chip shook his head. “Don't worry about it. This isn't a counseling session.” 

Kowalski looked at Chip dubiously, then relaxed further. “Sir? Can I ask you a question?” he asked tentatively. “Off the record?” 

Chip regarded him for a moment then nodded. “Sure, Kowalski. What’s on your mind?”

“What’s he like?” Kowalski asked after the briefest hesitation. “Captain Crane, I mean.”

“Smart. Quick on his feet and quick on the uptake,” Chip said without even pausing to think about it. “A good leader.”

Kowalski appeared to digest this. “Have you ever served with him?” he asked after a moment. 

Chip shook his head. “Not previously, no.”

“Is…is he gonna be with us long?” Kowalski asked hesitantly. 

Chip shrugged. “Kowalski, I have no idea. I don’t think anyone has thought that far ahead yet.” Which was probably dead wrong, he thought. The Admiral’s brain never stopped working. He probably already had a solution in mind, and was just biding his time.

Kowalski studied Chip for a long moment. “Permission to speak freely, sir?” 

“Go ahead, Ski,” Chip said, his use of Kowalski’s nickname intended to set the seaman at ease.

“Me and the guys, we were talkin’. We were kinda hopin’ the Admiral would make you the next skipper, sir.” When he received no response, he rushed on. “There’s nobody better for the job. You know us, you know Seaview – hell, sir, you even got your hands dirty helping install a bunch of her systems when she was still in the ways. You’re a plankowner, sir. It’s only fair to give you the job with Captain Phillips gone.”

Chip held his breath a moment before letting it out in a rush. “Well, Kowalski, thank you for the compliment – and thanks to the other crewmen who share that sentiment. That…means a lot. But I’m happy right where I am. Besides – would you really want Lieutenant Bishop as your XO?” 

Kowalski paled. “Sir – no sir!” He gulped audibly. “Beggin’ the XO’s pardon, but you did ask, sir.”

“Don’t worry, Kowalski – I never heard a word you said,” Chip told him, and gave him a reassuring smile.

“Is there anything else, Mister Morton?” Kowalski asked, clearly eager to leave.

Chip nodded. “I just wanted to ask you to give Captain Crane a chance, Kowalski. I know he’s not what you’re used to – what we’re used to. He’s got a different command style than Captain Phillips.”

“Yes, sir, he sure does,” Kowalski said, ruefully rubbing his jaw.

Chip smiled. “I doubt we’ll be seeing that aspect of it again, Ski.”

“No sir – I hope not. Once was enough.”

They were interrupted by a knock at the door, and Chip looked up in surprise. “Come,” he called.

Chief Curley Jones swung in through the door, and stopped in his tracks just inside the cabin, clearly surprised to see Kowalski. “Kowalski! Whaddaya doin’ botherin’ the XO?” he demanded. “Don’tcha know he’s got work to do?”

“Chief, I –” Kowalski protested. 

“Yeah, I know. Get back to work.”

Kowalski turned to Chip. “Mister Morton? We through?” 

Chip nodded. “We’re through, Kowalski. Thank you. Think about what I said.”

Kowalski nodded. “Yes, sir. I will. Good night, sir.”

“Good night, Kowalski.”

Chief Jones watched Kowalski hurry out of the cabin, then shut the door behind him. “Ski botherin’ you, Mister Morton?” he asked with a frown.

Chip shook his head, smiling inwardly at Curley’s protectiveness. “I called him in for a chat, Curley. He had questions. It’s only natural. It’s a big change.” He paused to blow out a breath. “I thought if I could get him on Captain Crane’s side….” He let his words trail off.

“Strange situation we got here, Mister Morton,” Curly said, taking the chair Kowalski had been sitting in and turning it around, then sitting in it backwards, draping his beefy forearms over the back.

Chip nodded and leaned back in his chair, at ease in the presence of his old friend. “Yeah, Curley, that it is.”

“You gonna have a hard time with this?” Curley asked.

Chip regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. Curley Jones had been the Chief of the Boat on Skipjack, Chip’s first boat after graduating sub school. He’d taken a liking to a very green ensign fresh out of nuclear power training and took it upon himself to help turn him into a capable officer, helping him to qualify for his gold dolphins in less than six months – which was still a record in the US Navy’s submarine force.

Curley hadn’t had to take that sort of interest in him – COBs were primarily responsible for training enlisted submariners, not officers, and he could have left Chip to the tender mercies of the boat’s officer complement, all of whom wanted Chip to qualify quickly in order to take some of the watch-standing load off their overburdened shoulders. But Curley had broken Chip in the right way. He was a good teacher as well as a thorough one, who taught the why as well as the how. Many of Chip’s qual cards had been signed off on by Curley himself. 

Chip would always be grateful to the old sea dog, the big man with the physique of a wrestler whose gruffness hid a kind heart. He had started out as a mentor, but had become a good friend along the way. Sharing plankowner status on Seaview, and the necessarily close working relationship between the COB and XO, had only strengthened that friendship. So Chip tended to cut Curley some slack in personal matters if Curley got nosy, as he sometimes did. “We’ll have to see about that, Curley. It’s not entirely up to me.”

“Beggin’ the XO’s pardon, but he’s a damned fool if he can’t see what you bring to this boat,” Curley said flatly.

“If there’s one thing Lee Crane isn’t, Curley, it’s a damned fool,” Chip pointed out dryly. “Impulsive, maybe, but not foolish.”

“He sure turned the boat on her ear in the middle of the night, sir,” Curley complained.

“We showed him what we were made of, though, didn’t we?” Chip asked with a smile.

“That we did, XO. That we did,” Curley said, beaming with pride. Then his smile turned to a scowl. “But I think you’re gonna have to be the buffer between him and the crew for the whole mission, sir. There’s still a lot of grumbling from the men.”

“I know,” Chip acknowledged. “See what you can to do stop it, Curley – I don’t want to intervene unless I have to.”

“Aye, sir.”

“I hope Kowalski will take what I said to heart and be an example for the other men,” Chip said.

“It might take more than that, sir.”

“Meaning?” Chip asked, though he knew what Curley was referring to.

“Beggin’ the XO’s pardon, but he shouldn’t have lit into you like that in front of the men,” Curley said flatly. “A lot of the guys aren’t happy with it.”

Chip shook his head. “He’s in command, Curley. Captain’s prerogative.”

“But it was different with Captain Phillips,” Curley protested.

“Captain Phillips was a different man,” Chip pointed out. “He had a different command style.”

“Yeah – he never punched anybody.” Curley’s New York accent was broad with disgust. 

“He had his own ways of making his displeasure known,” Chip said. 

“The guys have been talkin’ since…since Captain Phillips was killed. Most of them were hopin’….” His words trailed off uncertainly.

“That I’d be the next captain,” Chip finished for him. “Yes, I know. Kowalski told me.”

“Yes, sir.” Curley shrugged. “You know how we all feel about you.”

“Yes, Curley, I do.”

“And I think you’d make a damned good skipper – but I’d sure hate like hell to lose you as my XO.”

Chip grinned. “I don’t think I’ve ever received a better compliment, Curley. Thank you.”

The big chief blushed. “G’wan.”

“You don’t have to worry, Curley – I’m not in line for Captain Phillips’s job.”

Curley looked at me in surprise. “You shittin’ me, sir?”

“Curley.” Chip hid his smile. “Would I do that to you?”

“No, sir,” Curley said, sounding like a disgruntled little boy. “Sorry, sir.”

“Don’t apologize, Curley. The Admiral hasn’t said anything, but I can tell. But it’s fine. I don’t want the job anyway,” Chip said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“You don’t, sir?” Curley asked in surprise.

“No. I’m happy in the XO’s billet.” Chip grinned. “And do you really want to break in a new XO?”

“Nah – it took me long enough to get you in the shape you’re in. I’m getting’ too old to start over with somebody new,” Curley said flatly. “’Specially somebody who might not have half your common sense or your way with the men.”

Chip smiled in acknowledgement. Looking at his watch he said, “Hit the road, Curley. I need to get this pulled together so I don’t sound like a fool when I present it to the captain.”

“Your first eight o’clock report with the new captain, huh?” Curley asked, rising. “Good luck, sir.”

“Yeah – I might need it. Here.” He handed Curley the folder with the copies of the Plan of the Day. “Take these back to the Goat Locker with you, will you? Save me a trip.”

“Aye, sir.” Curley slipped the folder under his arm. He walked to the door, his steps surprisingly light for such a big man. He reached for the doorknob, then turned back. “See ya tomorrow, XO.” He slipped out into the corridor and shut the door firmly behind him.

“If I’m still in one piece after this,” Chip said to himself, then straightened his tie, gathered his paperwork and left for the captain’s cabin.


End file.
